


Sodden Satin

by TheseusInTheMaze



Series: Sodden Silk [2]
Category: Who Killed Markiplier? (Web Series), markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Knotting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 16:47:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: The aftermath.





	Sodden Satin

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Kurokirisu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kurokirisu/gifts).



> Whoa Mama, it's been a year since I wrote the original, and ye gods has my writing style changed! Hope y'all enjoy it, regardless!

There was a lot of shouting.

Not only was there a lot of shouting, there was a lot of shouting and _Damien couldn't do anything about it._ He was still tied, still trapped under William. He was being held in place on the bed, the knot thick and heavy in his ass, and he couldn't move. 

William was in some weird combination of tense and lazy, his muscles taut even as he yawned. 

"We should do something," Damien said, his voice thick. He was still sensitive, and every time William moved, his knot tugged at the rim of William's hole. It was... well, it was a lot. 

"There's nothing we can do," said William, and he kissed Damien on the temple, then on the hinge of the jaw. "We can stay up here, at least until the knot shrinks."

"I don't think it's going to shrink," said Damien, and he was aware that there was a hysterical edge to his voice. How about that, huh?

He didn't know what to do with it. He couldn't exactly turn off his feeling, could he? Well, in theory he could, but he didn't have the patience for that right now. Did he? He didn't really have a choice but to lie here, pinned down under the weight of William's body. 

At least William was being sweet, nuzzling into the back of his neck, nibbling on his shoulders. He was making vaguely soothing noises, but it wasn't... it was still _weird_. It was all happening at once - Damien could hear screaming and arguing in the room downstairs, but there wasn't anything that he could do about it, because he was still stuck here, a massive knot splitting his ass.

"We can't go anywhere," William said, and he was clearly trying to sound placating. "It's okay. We'll be fine."

"People are going to wonder where we are," Damien said, and yeah, no, there was a note of whining in his voice. 

"We can tell them we were fucking," said William. "It's a good alibi."

"But," Damien began, and then he closed his mouth. He wasn't really sure how to put this into words - he didn't want to be known as an Omega. He didn't want to be known as someone who sneaked off at parties and fucked. Or got fucked, as the case might have been. And it wasn't like there was anything _wrong_ with being an Omega or anything like that, but he just... didn't want people to think of him as that kind of person. Even if he was that kind of person, image was everything, right? 

He groaned, and his ass clenched around the knot inside of him, because it was so _big_ , filling him up, and it left him shaking. He couldn't do anything but stay lying here, until the knot shrank.

"It was probably nothing," William said into Damien's ear. "Don't worry about it."

* * * 

It wasn't nothing. 

It wasn't nothing, but it had nothing to do with them, obviously. Nothing to do with them at all. Someone had stolen William's gun, it turned out, and when they were finally - _finally_ \- untied, they were questioned intensively. 

At least Damien had a chance to take a shower, so he smelled less like... well, less like an Omega in heat. He was practically swaying with exhaustion by the time the questioning was done, and he went home by himself. His driver bundled him off into his car, and he didn't have a chance to say goodbye to William. 

He'd have to call William, when he had the chance.

Later.

He was still absorbing the shock of it all - Markiplier was _dead_ , and what were the chances of that? Damien had always figured that the bastard would outlive the rest of them. Obnoxious people tended to do that. But someone had shot him, apparently with William's gun, and Damien hadn't even had a chance to really extend any sympathies to anyone. 

Not that he was really in any shape to do that in the first place - he was so tired. Who knew that getting knotted like that would end up knocking him down like that? He was already starting to smell like his heat again, which was making the police look at him sidelong.

Just great. just fucking great. 

It would be out to the press in no time, at this rate. The Mayor himself was actually an Omega. It would probably be in all the papers, and his reputation would be completely done for. What was he even going to do, if he wasn't the Mayor?

That was a problem to worry about later. For now, he was going to go home, wrap himself up in blankets, maybe jerk off until he couldn't feel his arm anymore, see if that helped. It probably wouldn't - past heats hadn't been helped by jerking off - but at least it would take his mind off of all of this business.

His old friend was dead. Not just dead, but murdered. How did he process that, when he had lust beating through him like the beat of some ghastly drum. He yawned, and his ears popped. Sleep. He'd feel better for some sleep.

* * *

Damien fucked himself until his arm was sore, sprawled out on his enormous bed. He thrashed around over the covers, humping his hand and grinding against a dildo, coming three times before something like satisfaction was setting into him. Part of the problem was the fact that he'd had a knot now - an _actual_ knot, from an actual, living Alpha. It had been a skillfully used knot, too. Damien hadn't realized there was much finesse behind it, honestly - he'd just assumed that it got shoved in, and that was that. 

You learned a lot of shit as you got older, didn't you? 

He fell asleep, still sticky and slick with his own arousal, his own come. It was disgusting, and he was probably going to regret it in the morning, but it wasn't like he could do anything about it. He had no energy. All he wanted to do was sleep.

It was a good thing he'd taken some time off, in preparation for all of this. At least he'd gotten better at being able to _deal_ with his heats. He he could jerk off with gritted teeth, and try not to think about... well. He wanted things. Things that he needed to not want, for one reason or another. 

He was fond of William - infinitely fond of the man in spite of himself, for all that the man made him crazy - but there were… things that he needed to not do. Maybe if William was a little bit less high profile, or possibly a little bit less… well, crazy. Not that William was that crazy, all things considered, but it was still very much… there.

His heart was very loud in his ears, as his cock throbbed against his belly, an insistent reminder of just how desperate he was for… well, anything. He wanted to get fucked, he wanted to fuck, he wanted to be touched and to touch. 

He wanted to be knotted, like something out of the worst kind of pornography. He didn’t realize that was a real thing - he wanted, so badly, but he didn’t want at the same time. It was a complication that made his stomach knot up like a hose left out in the yard. 

* * * 

Damien was woken up by his butler, some time later. “Your friend William is at the door,” his butler informed him.

Damien blinked at him, uncomprehending. “What?”

“William is here,” his butler said again. 

“Why is he here?” 

“He said to come see you,” said his butler. “Shall I tell him to leave?” 

Damien gave himself a bit of a self assessment, trying to figure out what, exactly, he was feeling. What did he want, right now?

He wanted to drop to his knees and beg to be knotted again, and maybe to have some sort of feelings about the business with Markiplier being dead. He wasn’t sure how to deal with that at _all_. But that would be undignified, and Damien was nothing, if not dignified. 

… that was an utter and total lie, but he could at least pretend, right?

* * * 

Damien jerked off in the shower, a quick, dirty thing. He came all over the floor, and his knees went weak with the force of his orgasm - he wasn’t used to coming quite so hard. He wasn’t used to his heats hitting him quite this hard, either. It had been bad even before he’d been knotted, but now that he’d gotten a taste of it… god, he just wanted _more_.

He was fulfilling every Omega stereotype, wasn’t he? He’d have been disgusted in himself, if he had any energy to do so. As it was, he was just tired. 

* * *

Damien was, more or less, presentable when he went down to the parlor to meet William. He found William sitting on the couch, reading his book. He looked up at Damien when the door opened up, and his face was surprisingly open - almost naked. “Damien,” he said, and his voice was rough. Had he been crying?

“William,” said Damien, trying to keep his own composure. He could _smell_ William, and he wanted to just… press closer, pull William close to him. He wanted to hold on and kiss him, he wanted… he wanted everything. 

He settled for rubbing his hands together, then sitting across from William, on a separate sofa. 

“You rushed off so quickly, old chap, I hadn’t the foggiest idea where you had gone,” said William. “Are you alright?”

“I’m still… dealing with my affliction,” Damien said stiffly, because _I’m still in heat_ seemed like an awkward thing to say at a time such as this. 

“Of course,” William said, and he cleared his throat. “If you’d… that is, if you think that I could help, I would be, um… I would be honored to. To help.”

“Right,” said Damien, and it took effort not to shudder, flushing as he stared down at his hands. 

“I… I was feeling alone,” William said, and his voice was rough. “I also wanted to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“If you hadn’t been with me at the time, things might have gone very badly,” said William. There was an edge of… something in his voice, something that was giving Damien the heebie jeebies. There was something going on, something that he didn’t understand. He was missing some vital piece of information. 

“What do you mean?” Damien frowned. 

“It was my gun,” said William. “That killed Markiplier, I mean. Someone was trying to frame me. They probably would have succeeded, if you hadn’t had me… otherwise occupied.”

“Oh,” said Damien, and he cleared his throat. “Well. I’m, uh, I’m sure that someone else might have found some way to… entertain you.” He was looking at William’s mouth, which was very red and very wet. What would it feel like, to have it in his ass? 

… not a train of thought to go down, when they were in such close quarters. Definitely a train of thought to go down. 

“If it weren’t for you, and your… need for help, I may very well have had this murder pinned on me,” said William. “So… I wanted to thank you for that.”

“Oh,” said Damien. “Well. I could, uh, I could say the same thing. I could thank you for… for helping me.”

“It’s not like I was under duress,” said William, looking faintly affronted. “It was immensely enjoyable for me.”

“I’m glad,” said Damien. “That it helped. And was enjoyable.” 

“How could it not be enjoyable?” William’s expression could best be described with “smirk” right about now, and Damien wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch him or kiss him. Asshole. 

“It was a duty,” Damien said stiffly. “A duty you didn’t have to participate in.”

William shrugged. “It was enjoyable,” he repeated. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Right,” said Damien, then; “what can I do for you?” 

“Well,” said William, and he looked faintly embarrassed now, “I was wondering if you’d possibly be interested in me… continuing to help you. Seeing as how I’m feeling somewhat shaken up by the whole business with Markiplier, and I figured that you’d still be in heat, so we could both get something out of it.” 

“I do enjoy your companionship, you know,” said Damien. “Not just your knot.” It was a very crude thing to say, all things considered, and he blushed. 

"I should hope you enjoy both," said William, "as I endeavor to make both as enjoyable as possible." He was grinning in a way that might have been described as "rakish" in a certain kind of novel. 

Not that Damien read those kinds of novels.

Often.

"You are very good at both of them," said Damien, although then he was kicking himself, because that was a _really_ stupid sentence, but his arousal was spiking, rolling over him like a wave. He bit back a shudder, barely, his toes curling in his socks, and he tried to look collected.

"If you're interested," said William, "I would be willing to continue helping you. It may be easier, since we're in our own environs. It would also be easier, when we're together, to have an alibi."

"Tongues may wag," said Damien, although he was on autopilot at this point. He was already thinking about having a knot inside of him again, filling him up and making him come like a fountain. 

"I would like to make yours," said William, and his voice was going lower, making Damien's stomach twist in new, interesting ways. 

"What, wag?" 

"Oh yes," said William. 

"I feel we've lost the plot," said Damien. 

"To hell with the plot," said William, and then he was standing up, taking steps, and he was right in front of Damien, his hands resting on Damien's shoulders. He squeezed them, and Damien shuddered, his mouth falling open. 

"What about the plot to frame you?" Damien tilted his head back, to look William in the face. 

"To hell with that plot too," said William, and then he was leaning down. He was kissing Damien almost before Damien had a chance to react, and Damien sighed, his fingers going to William's shoulders, clutching at the fabric of William's suit jacket. 

Damien stood up awkwardly, until they were both standing, and they were pressed together, belly to belly, chest to chest. William's breath was hot against Damien's cheek, and William's tongue was already something like familiar in Damien's mouth. His hands were running up and down along Damien's sides, and Damien shuddered, melting into the kiss. It was soft and wet, hot and sweet. It was... what was it?

It was everything, or so it seemed, and Damien was already going weak in the knees. When they pulled apart, he was panting, his face red, his eyes at half mast. 

"How are you doing?" William sounded genuinely anxious.

"I'm great," Damien said, and he sounded dazed. "Wonderful."

"Would you like to go to the bedroom?" William's hands moved down Damien's arms, to Damien's hands. He squeezed Damien's fingers, and Damien squeezed them back, without even thinking. 

"That would probably be wise, yes," said Damien, because actually fucking here was probably a bad idea, as tempting as it was. 

"Lead the way," said William.

"Um?" Damien blinked at William, his head still foggy with arousal. He hated how stupid his heats made him, but he wasn't really sure how to stop it. 

"I don't know where your bedroom is," William said, the epitome of calm. "Unless you'd like me to open doors until I come upon what I assume is the right one?"

'No, no," Damien said quickly. "Just... give me a moment. I'm a bit all over the place."

"I can tell," said William, and he grinned at Damien, all bright teeth and dark eyes.

Something in Damien's stomach twisted, and he bit his lip to keep from making any particularly embarrassing noise. "You can't just say things like that," Damien said plaintively. 

"And yet I do," said William, and his fingers squeezed Damien's again. "Shall we?"

* * * 

There was something vaguely embarrassing to William about showing Damien his bedroom. Something intimate, and that was funny in and of itself, considering the fact that he'd had the man's cock inside of him. And yet. Here was the space where he slept, that already smelled like his heat, that smelled like his _everything_ , and here was William, just casually standing in it. 

William wasn't just standing, though - he was carefully slipping out of his suit jacket, draping it across the back of one chair, then undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, first at the cuffs, then down the front. He stood there, shirtless, and then he was working on his belt, patient and calm as ever.

"You seem in a hurry," Damien said, and he tried not to sound too anxious as he took his own suit jacket off, letting it crumple in a heap on the floor. He didn't particularly care about that jacket. He unbuttoned his own shirt, carefully, and tried not to flush at the way that William was looking him up and down. 

"I like my clothing," William said, "and I know that if I wait any longer, I'm going to ruin it in my pursuit of you." He said it as if that was a perfectly reasonable thing to say, and yet Damien was flushing, even as he shoved his own pants off, until he was completely naked, his feet sinking into the thick carpet of his bedroom. 

"You think you're that desperate, to have a go at me?" Damien licked his lips, as his slick dripped down his leg and his cock throbbed like it was in pain.

"No, I _know_ I'm that desperate," said William, and now he was naked as well, completely naked, like some statue in a museum. "So I won't tempt fate."

"Right," said Damien, and he licked his lips. "Well... here I am." 

"Here you are indeed," said William, and he stepped forward, his hands going to William's shoulders, then down, to rest on William's hips. He squeezed them tightly, and his mouth went to Damien's neck, mouthing it gently. Their cocks were pressed together, smearing across each other's bellies. The whole room was already starting to smell like sex - not just like Damien's heat, but like actual sex. 

William smelled so good, and his mustache was ticklish against Damien's neck. William was mouth at Damien's pulse, then lower, along Damien's shoulder. He nipped at Damien's shoulder, and Damien shuddered, his toes curling. He was... he was very sensitive. Did heats always leave him this sensitive?

Probably, come to think of it.

"I want to make you come at least twice before I fuck you," William said, and his voice was ticklish as it vibrated across Damien's skin. "Do you think you can do me the honor?"

"You'd be the one doing the honors," Damien pointed out, as he was led towards the bed. 

"Still," said William, and he was pushing Damien onto the bed, gently, flat on his belly. 

"Still?" Damien was flat on his belly now, bending over the bed, and William was crouching behind him.

"Still," William said. He got on his knees, pulling Damien's ass open and just... looking.

Damien pressed his face into his arms, which were folded in front of him. He squirmed, his cock grinding against the bed in front of him, and he let his mouth fall open. He took a deep, gasping breath, his knees digging into the bed, his head thrown back. He was almost sobbing, from the warm air on his hole, from the embarrassment of all of this. 

"Still what?" Damien's voice cracked.

"I honestly have no idea," said William. "I completely lost my train of thought."

"Oh," said Damien. "Sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" William leaned forward, and he took a nibble at the cheek of Damien's ass. "I'm distracted by just how delectable you are."

"Oh," said Damien. He wasn't sure how to respond to that, and then he didn't _have_ to think about how to respond to that, because William's tongue was sliding out and down, sliding into his ass. He gasped, grabbing handfuls of the covers and pressing his face into them, and William chuckled.

William’s tongue was very hot, and it was very wet. It seemed a lot more… solid than a tongue had any right to be. It was almost as insistent as a finger, probing him delicately. Damien’s fingers were in his own hair, twisting it around and around, biting into his skin. It was borderline painful, but it was a counterpoint to the way that William’s tongue was making him feel. He was going to melt from the pleasure of it, he was going to just fall down onto the floor in a giant wet puddle, like an ice cream in the sun. Someone was crying out very loudly, come to think of it, and he realized with some surprise that it was, in fact, him. That was unexpected.

Someone was crying, and he was surprised to find that it was him. Huh. When had that happened? There was wetness on his face, and some of it was sweat, and some of it was tears. He was humping back now, and he was making the most _obscene_ noises, noises that he didn’t expect to come from his mouth. He didn’t know he had it in him to be that needy. He liked to _think_ he had more dignity than that, but maybe he was fooling himself. 

William did something… swirly with his tongue, and Damien cried out again, his fists in his hair once again. He was humping the bed, humping against William’s mouth, as William sucked and licked. Damien was losing track of time, losing track of anything but the places that their bodies were touching. The heat that was cresting in his gut seemed to be intensifying, and his muscles were getting tighter, tight enough that he was almost afraid his bones would break. It was on the very edge of being too much, until William’s fingers slid inside of him, curling against his prostate. 

At which point Damien came. Damien came and cried as he came, because there was just so _much_ of it - his slick was gushing out of him, and his cock was twitching, trapped between the mattress and his belly. _These sheets are done for_ flashed through his head, and then he was gasping, as William flipped him over. Didn’t even seem to take much effort - just held on to Damien’s hips, forced him flat on his back, and now there was going to be dried come on Damien’s lower back, which was gross, but who the fuck cared.

William’s mouth was going to Damien’s cock, which was still pulsing with the remains of his orgasm, and William just… swallowed it down. He didn’t give Damien a chance to get soft again, just began to suck, his cheeks hollowing out, his eyes flitting up towards Damien’s face, then fluttering closed again. He was beginning to bob his head, sucking harder, slurping. It was all so fucking filthy, like something out of a lewd novel. He was sobbing again, and now his hands were buried in William’s hair, fingertips sliding in the sweat. He could smell the rankness of William’s Alpha-ness, a deep scent that stuck in the back of his nose, left him shaking.

William did something with his throat, something to open it up more, and then he was taking more of Damien’s cock down into him, sucking and bobbing his head, slurping like he was eating a lollipop. He was humming as well, and the vibrations of it ran up and down Damien’s cock, began to slide up and down Damien’s back as well, like someone was tickling him with feathers. Only moreso. Much moreso.

He was going to come in a gush, in a burst, like a waterfall. There was so much of it already, leaking out of him, sweating out of his pores. His everything seemed to be humming with arousal, with desperation, with a need that he didn’t entirely have the words for, except that it was eating him alive. He didn’t like being this vulnerable, didn’t like being this wanting, this desperate. It was unbecoming. 

In this moment in time, whether something was "becoming" or not didn't seem to _matter_. Nothing seemed to matter, except for the fact that Wilford was still touching him with the utmost tenderness, but somehow with passion mixed in. It was a bit like the sensation of being eaten alive by someone who adored him utterly. 

Damien wasn't sure if he was actually _ready_ for utmost adoration. Or being devoured, for that matter, although the way that William was sucking him off felt like he possibly needed to get there. It was the kind of intensity that he normally shied away from, for one reason or another - it was the kind of intensity that wasn't really a _thing_ in one's day to day life, but here he was, taking it. He took it and took it, his fingers threading through William's hair, his hips rising up to meet William's sucking. He was fully aware of the noises he was making now - gasps and moans and groans, vibrating through his chest, up his throat, out of his mouth. He was beyond the point of even being _embarrassed_ at this point, because what would be the point? William had been eating his ass, and now William was sucking his cock. William took him in for all the organic vileness that was... well, him, and kept coming back.

William had always come back, hadn't he? He'd always been a friend, he'd always cared, even if he had an eccentric way of showing it. This was less eccentric, admittedly. You couldn't get much more direct than sucking someone's cock in the midst of their heat - you couldn't, and you didn't want to. Why hadn't William been more straightforward, in the old days? 

The thought startled Damien out of his haze of arousal, and he let out a bark of a laugh, his hips still stuttering forward. 

William pulled back, looking up Damien's body, his brow furrowed and his mustache damp with sweat. "What's so funny?" His brows were furrowed together. 

"I think we may have been better friends if we'd gotten down to this sort of business earlier in life," said Damien, and he was clearly trying not to start snickering. 

William raised an eyebrow. "I don't think you'd have taken kindly to me offering to slobber on your knob in the old days, old chap," he said, and he gave Damien a long, slow stroke, from root to tip and back again. 

Damien shuddered, his mouth falling open and his hips rolling forward. "I... think if you'd demonstrated your skill, I might have been amenable," he said, and there was a hint of a laugh in his voice.

William laughed, a deep, hearty chuckle, and some of the tension in the room cleared. It seemed like the orgasm had at least calmed Damien down enough to be able to think in a straight line. He didn't know how long it would last, but he was going to enjoy it while it did. Hopefully.

"I'll keep that in mind for the future," William told him earnestly. "Whenever I wish to make a decent impression on someone, I'll offer them oral sex first and foremost. I'm sure that'll go down swimmingly."

Damien cackled - he should have tried to cultivate a better laugh, or at least sound a bit less like some monster out of a fairy tale. But he couldn't help it - how was he supposed to keep from laughing? All of this was faintly absurd. The fact that it was all happening while their old friend was still dead in a morgue only made it moreso. It almost felt like he was _missing_ something. Like the universe had expected it to go a certain way, and then it hadn't, and the world was staggering around, trying to find the next path to go down. he'd seen something called the "Trousers of Time" once, and found it asinine, but that was really the only explanation for what was currently going on. 

William looked up at him, his expression flitting between amusement and concern and then back again. The mustache definitely helped with that - there was just so much of it, and it was so... bushy. It took up so much of his face, and it seemed to underline his every expression. Or maybe it was an exclamation point at the end of every expression. 

"Damien," William said sharply, "you still with me?" 

"Well, I am sitting here," said Damien. "I don't think I'd go anywhere, as naked as I am." He shuddered when William bit his inner thigh, his toes curling into his sheets, his fingers curling in William's hair.

William rolled his eyes, and he made deliberate eye contact with Damien. He opened his mouth, and he wrapped his lips around the head of Damien's cock, letting it rest on his tongue, then took it deeper, still keeping eye contact. he stared straight into Damien's _soul_ as he sucked Damien's cock, and Damien was the one to look away.

It was all so _much_ , and he was starting to shake. His heels were digging into the blankets, and his hips were lifting up of their own violation. he already had a slimy, musky puddle under his ass where his slick was dribbling out, but he couldn't really do much about that. He was disgusting like this, but he could live with being disgusting. He could live with anything, when William swallowed around the length of him, his tongue flickering along Damien's frenulum, then jabbing at the slit with the very tip of his tongue. 

"You're very good at that," Damien said thickly. "Much... much better than I thought you'd be."

William pulled off, licking his lips. They were red and swollen, shiny with saliva. "Why would that be?" He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, utterly unselfconscious. 

"The mustache," said Damien, which both was and wasn't the truth. 

"You think an excellent mustache keeps someone from performing decent oral sex?" William raised an eyebrow.

"It's more than decent, for one thing," Damien said fervently. “I can see why Celine went with you.”

He knew, as soon as he said it, that it was the wrong thing to say. He saw the stormy look pass over William’s face, and then he was swallowing down William’s cock in one, long gulp. He did something especially creative with his tongue, and Damien was howling to the rafters, his hips jerking forward, his head thrown back. He wanted to apologize - sort of. He knew he’d said something he shouldn’t have - something that could be interpreted as “cruel” if you were feeling kind - but all he could do was lie here and take the pleasure.

William made a noise in his throat, as he took in more of Damien’s cock, and then his throat was squeezing Damien. It was hot and velvety, wetter than wet, and it was making Damien shake. He was going to come down William’s throat at his rate, come far too quickly, but it wouldn’t actually calm the fire in his belly. He hated being at the mercy of his hormones, hated being something that needed something as visceral and base as… well, sex. Let alone sex as an _Omega_. 

Damien thrashed on the bed, and he was groaning, almost sobbing. He was going to come very fast. Much faster than he wanted to, honestly - ordinarily, he was one to savor an orgasm, let himself feel it. But this wasn’t a time to enjoy himself, was it? This was a time to just feel things, as they crashed down on him, again and again. He was going to come like a fountain, right down William’s throat, and it was… what was it? 

It was on its way to disgusting, but at the same time, William had eaten his ass. He wanted William to kiss him, except there was a time and a place for asking someone to go brush their teeth, and this wasn’t really the time, even if it was what he wanted. He made some kind of embarrassing, keening cry as William deepthroated him again, deep enough that his mustache was tickling the base of Damien’s cock, and nose mashed against William’s belly.

Damien made an undignified noise, and his hips stuttered forward. He was full on fucking William’s face, but William wasn’t complaining, was just taking it. He seemed to be enjoying it, honestly - he was moaning around Damien’s cock, and his tongue was doing some more bewitching things, and then he was doing something that made his throat _spasm_ around Damien’s cock, and then Damien was coming. He came hard, hard enough to see fireworks behind his eyes, his hips wiggling. He came down William’s throat, and William just swallowed it down, as if it was a thing to do. Damien might have found that a little disgusting, if he could think. Luckily, he couldn’t.

William cleaned him off carefully, then nuzzled into Damien’s thigh. “Do you think you’re up for getting knotted?” His voice was quiet, and it buzzed along Damien’s skin, like a whole hive of bees.

Damien shuddered, and he nodded, licking his lips. “Please,” he croaked. “I… I need your knot.” He’d have been embarrassed about saying it out loud, like _that_ , except that it was already coming out of his mouth, and how was he supposed to even deal with that? 

“Well,” said William, “I should give it to you then, shouldn’t I?” He grabbed Damien by the hips, and he bodily flipped Damien over - Damien made a surprised noise, but he was already spreading his legs wider, sticking his out for William.

William grabbed a handful of it, squeezing it, and Damien sobbed, his toes curling and hsi back arching. William’s fingers probed his hole, sliding in all the way to the second knuckle, three fingers at once, and then William was pressing down on Damine’s prostate, curling down on it. Damien’s cock twitched against his belly, _still_ hard. Another orgasm was already building inside of him, and he was a little bit afraid of it. How many orgasms could he have in one go? He didn’t have much experience with being fucked while in heat - he was used to his solo adventures, of never being sated.

Admittedly, he wasn’t exactly sated now either, but at least it was getting closer. He knew, in theory, that he could be sated once he’d been knotted. Not for very long, but it was something. He had his ass in the air, his face in his arms, his knees leaving indentations in the mattress. He was humping forward, his cock half hard and dribbling more pre-come and leftover semen, his ass drooling slick down his thighs. He was a wet mess, slimy and sticky with fluids.

William was pressing closer to him, his hands on Damien’s hips, and the head of _his_ cock was hard and hot, the wet head of it dragging across the inside of Damien’s thigh. One hand was going to the base of William’s cock, and then the head of William’s cock was pushing against him.

Damien shuddered, and he went lax, spreading his legs wider, and then William’s cock was pushing into him. No fanfare, no fireworks, just a cock sliding into his ass, filling him up. There was a piece of another person’s body inside of his own, and that… oh, that was _heady_ , making his head swim. He was clenching around the dick inside of him, and it was barely in.

“God,” William said, right into Damien’s shoulder, “you’re so hot inside. So slick. I can’t believe how good you feel.”

“You’ve fucked other… Omegas before,” Damien panted, and he was digging his teeth into his own arm, his toes curling. “It can’t be that different.”

“Take a compliment,” William groused. “It’s not that hard, is it?” He pushed his hips forward, and the hair at the base of his cock was ticklish against Damien’s ass. He humped back against it, his head tilting back, and he was gasping. “You’ve got a spectacular ass. Truly stupendous. Amazing. I love it. A lot.” 

That was uncomfortably close to other things, but Damien didn’t have it in him to call William out on it. How was he even going to respond to that? 

"Come on," William said, and then there were teeth in Damien's neck, then a gentle kiss. "I know you want it. I want you to come around my cock, before my knot pops. Do it, please. Please, I want it so badly." His hand was sliding awkwardly under Damien, finding Damien's cock and squeezing it, a long, slow stroke.

Damien shuddered around the cock inside of him, as William pushed in deeper, deep enough that his groin was pressed against Damien's ass, and Damien groaned, arching his back. He tried to get William's dick even _deeper_ \- he wasn't even embarrassed about it, at this point, he just wanted it. He wanted with a deep, throbbing pulse, the kind of wanting that he'd be worried about, if he could think i n a straight line. 

William bit Damien's shoulder, and Damien shuddered against him, around him. He was surrounded by William, invaded and held like a precious thing - he didn't know what to do with himself, except that he was here, being touched, being fucked, being... loved? Was this love, or was this hormones? Was love anything but hormones to begin with? Williams hand twisted on his cock, and Damien's eyes rolled back, his ass clenching tightly around William, his knuckles creaking as he took great handfuls of the covers. 

"I'm glad you're not dead," William whispered into Damien's ass, as he thrust again and again, deep, slow thrusts. "I have dreams where you're dead, where Celine -" He squeezed, his thumb pressing against the slit of Damien's cock. 

"It's... a dream," Damien murmured, his forehead pressing into his own arms, his ass grinding back into William's. "Not real."

"This is real," said William, and he bit Damien on the shoulder, hard enough that it _stung_ , and Damien wailed as he came - again - clenching and shuddering around William's cock, his own cock spitting out more come. 

"It's... real," William grunted, and then he was beginning to fuck Damien, deep, hard strokes, hard enough to shake the bed. Hard enough to push Damien forward on the sheets, and Damien dug his knees in to keep from being pushed too far forward. He'd probably have some equivalent of rug burn on his knees, by the time this was over. Sheet burn?

Damien groaned, panting up at the ceiling, and he fucked back into it, his cock still tender. William was still holding it, delicate and gentle, but still holding it. He was mumbling bits and pieces of... something. Something that Damien couldn't understand, because it was muffled. William's cock was beginning to swell, and the base of it was getting thicker.

"I want to knot you," William said, and his voice resonated through his chest, buzzing against Damien's skin. "I want to put my knot in you, please, can I put my knot in you?" 

"Do it," Damien mumbled. "That's the point of all of... of all of this, isn't it?" 

"It is," said William, and he was pushing his hips forward harder, his dick going deeper into Damien's ass. "But I need to ask. It's part of it. That's important."

"Do it," Damien said. "Do it. Knot me. Fill me up, give it to me, give... oh _fuck_!"

William groaned, and he forced his dick all the way in, and then his knot was emerging, filling Damien's ass like a cork in a bottle. Damien clenched around it, his mouth open as he panted, and he clutched at William's knot with all the muscles he had. It was... it was all so much. It was all filling him up, it was almost enough that he thought he might _die_ , or pass out, or something. It was such a tight stretch, and that made no sense, because he'd been knotted the day before. 

"I thought you were dead," William said. "In my dreams, you were dead, and then you got up again, and it was...." His face was wet, with sweat or tears or something else, and it was smearing across Damien's back. 

Damien didn't really know what William was going on about, but he groaned encouragingly, as William's cock began to get stiffer and throb harder, hotter. _He's going to come inside of me,_ passed through his head, then; _what if I get pregnant from all of this?_

That wasn't very likely. 

Male Omegas Damien's age didn't get pregnant from an impromptu fucking while in heat. 

William gasped, his whole body going stiff, and he shoved his dick as deep as it could go, his knot filling Damien up, spitting come as deep inside of Damien as it could get. His knees almost instantly went limp, and he was slumping onto Damien's back, his cock completely sheathed inside of Damien. His hand slid into William's, and their fingers linked together, squeezing tightly. 

* * *

Damien woke up when William pulled out of him, carefully. There was still a little bit of a pull, though, and come dripped down and out of Damien's ass, along his thighs. He sat up, rubbing his eyes, and he looked over his shoulder at William. "Are you leaving?" He wasn't expecting his voice to be quite so choked up, but... well, there he was.

All those hormones rushing through him, making him stupid. 

"I'm going to the facilities," William said, "and then I'll be back."

"You can... you can stay. For longer, I mean. If you want to. If you'd be interested." 

"I'm not going anywhere," said William. "I promise. At least... for a while, yet."

Damien rolled onto his back, looking over the curve of his stomach at William. "Why?" 

"Why what?" William stood in the middle of Damien's bedroom, completely naked and not at all self conscious about it. 

"Why are you staying? Don't you have matters to attend to?" Damien sat up, and he winced as more come gushed out of him, mixed in with slick. He was still gross, still sticky with come and slick. 

"I... am not able to attend to most of the matters I would in the first place," said William, looking sidelong and self conscious. "What with the murder investigation and whatnot."

"Oh," said Damien, and something like disappointment sank down into his stomach, although he wasn't entirely sure why. Was he bothered by the fact that William wasn't spending time with him deliberately, but to avoid the various paparazzo? Or was it because he was... what? 

His head hurt, and he sighed, flopping back, covering his eyes with one arm.

"I'll get you a glass of water," William said, "when I get back."

"Thank you," Damien said quietly, his eyes drifting shut. He was sore in the thighs, sore in the ass, sore in the back. 

_Markiplier is dead,_ crept across his mind like a snail, and he took a metaphorical step back. Here he was, fucking around, and one of his oldest friends was dead. What kind of a friend was he? 

He wasn’t even aware that he was crying until the tears dripping down the side of his face reached his ears - that was an _odd_ sensation, and his eyes flew open. He was crying. His friend was dead, he had come dripping out of his ass and tears dripping out of his face. He really was a wet mess right now, wasn’t he?

_This is all a hormone rebalancing_ , said some part of his mind, but that was a bit hard to cling to, when he was still crying. It was ugly crying, too - he was making snotty, coughing sobs, and he was wrapping his arms around himself as he sat up and rocked, crying hard enough that he was vaguely afraid he would throw up. Then there were arms around him, and he was crying into William’s chest. 

“I know,” William said, with that rough voice of his. “He’s gone now. And we’re not. We’re still alive.” 

“Should we be?” Where had that come from? Damien didn’t entirely understand why he was freaking out like this - it wasn’t as if he was _expecting_ himself to be dead or anything like that. He was still just himself, so what else was he supposed to do? There was some kind of gaping… wrongness at the back of his mind, and he didn’t know how to do away with it, or even _explain_ it. 

“I don’t know,” said William. “Since it happened, I look at you, and I feel like… like something is going to happen.” He sounded embarrassed. 

“What kind of something?” Damien leaned back, wiping his eyes. He was… sated. Maybe his godforsaken heat was finally on its way out, and he could be a human being again, and not just some kind of horny beast. 

“I don’t know, exactly,” said William. “I do… I’ve felt a lot better since I got back from the house. Since I got out of it. It’s like my head is clearer.”

“I’m glad,” said Damien. “I wasn’t aware that your head had been… clouded to begin with.”

“I’ve been having the most awful headaches,” William said. “The whole time I was there, I mean. Were you not feeling it?”

“I mean,” said Damien, “I’ve been… distracted. It’s been nothing but hormones for me. It’s been exhausting.”

“I always thought that heat seemed to be a bit… much,” William admitted. “How do you deal with it, ordinarily?” 

“I suppress it,” Damien said. “Or I masturbate a lot. If Markiplier hadn’t thrown his stupid party, I….” 

“Well, we probably wouldn’t have gotten together, that’s for sure,” said William, and he gave an awkward laugh. “Would it be alright if I, um… if I stayed here for a few more nights?” 

“Is there something wrong with your own home?” Damien’s tone came out frostier than he expected it to. Shit. “You are welcome here,” he added, although now he sounded nervous. 

“I… do not want to be alone right now,” William said, and he said it in such a way as to imply something else. What that something else was, Damien wasn’t sure, but there was anxiety broiling in his gut. 

“No?” 

“I like spending time with you,” William said, “even beyond you being in heat. I have been… withdrawn as of late, for a whole number of reasons, and I do apologize for that.” His face was drawn, and he was blushing. “Things have been… complicated, since i ran off with Celine.”

“Why did you do that in the first place?” Damien flopped back on the bed. He was tired, he realized. Tired in his bones, tiredness throbbing through him the way arousal had been. 

William shrugged. “I don’t entirely recall myself, honestly,” he said, and he looked embarrassed. “I don’t think I’ll ever live that down. Although then again, I suppose I don’t really deserve to, do I?” 

It was Damien’s turn to shrug. “I have wondered why you’d do that,” he admitted. “The two of you never seemed to have an especially strong connection, one way or another.” 

“It… seemed like a thing to do,” said William, and then he was going into the bathroom, and returning with a glass of water. “Here you go.”

Damien took a sip of his water, then drank it long and deep. Much better - he hadn’t even realized how dry his mouth was, how much he had sweated. “Will you stay with me?” He avoided eye contact, as he rubbed the back of his neck. More dried sweat. “Just for a little while. You don’t have to do it for… too long, y’know. But for a bit, maybe.” 

“I’ll stay with you,” said William. “For a bit.” He rested a hand on top of Damien’s hair, tangling in the sweaty mop of it, and Damien leaned into it, nuzzling into William’s hand. He sighed, and it ruffled the hair under William’s navel. 

“Thank you,” said Damien. 

“We should, however, bathe at some point in the near future,” said William, wrinkling his nose. “We both smell horrible.”

“I thought the smells of sex were one of the things that appealed to Alphas,” said Damien, his tone faintly teasing. “You lot went wild for that business.”

“Even the most wonderful taste in the world can be overwhelming, after a bit,” said William. 

"So you're saying I'm the most wonderful scent in the world?" Damien tried to sound flirty. He wasn't sure if he achieved it, but then again, he'd never been demure a day in his life. It didn't come naturally to him, but then again, neither did opening up to people.

At least he was a little better at that. 

"It's up there," William said, his tone surprisingly serious. "Or, at the very least, I've grown quite fond of it." 

"Have you?" Damien was blushing, and didn't know how to stop.

"I have indeed," said William. 

There was an awkward moment - Damien probably should have said something, except he couldn't think of anything else to say. He cleared his throat, looking down at his lap, rubbing his hands together. 

"You should eat something," William said, after the beat had passed. "Since all this fucking takes it out of you."

"Doesn't fucking take it out of _you_ as well?" Damien ended up sprawling out on the floor, his eyes at half mast. 

"Oh, it does," said William, "but my body isn't doing half of what yours is."

"You're still producing hormones and pumping blood and growing hair and all of that," said Damien. 

"Come take a shower with me," William said, "and then we can eat something, and then you can sleep." 

"I suppose that would be a good idea, yes," said Damien. The gnawing desperation at the root of his belly was calming down, finally. Maybe the heat was almost finished - that would be nice. He could get on with his life.

His life, without his old friend. His old friend, who he was never going to see again. And everything still felt... off. Like something hadn't gone the way it should have been. Like he shouldn't have been here in the first place, although where he _should_ have been was a mystery. 

"I wonder who killed Markiplier," Damien said, as he made his way towards the bathroom.

"I do too," said William, and his voice was sad.

* * *

Damien stood under the hot water, tilting his head back and letting the water drum over his scalp, like a rainstorm on a tin roof. William was a hot, solid presence against him, his chin against Damien's shoulder, his hands running up and down Damien's sides and belly, soaping him up. 

"I'm glad I could help you with your heat," William said, right in Damien's ear. "I like to be helpful."

"You're very helpful," Damien said. "I appreciate it."

William snorted, and even Damien had to grin a bit at that. There was something amusingly awkward about the way he said it, although fucked if he could put his finger on it. 

"I do my best to be helpful," William said, his voice the very picture of accommodating. 

"Would you like me to return the favor?" Damien leaned back into William, his eyes sliding shut. Exhaustion was already starting to tug at his bones, pulling them down through his skin and towards the ground. He'd be an empty shell if this kept up. 

"Not now, I don't," said William. "You seem like you're going to drop in a moment."

"I'm perfectly fine," Damien argued, although there wasn't much vigor behind the argument. He was _astoundingly_ tired, out of the blue.

"You're not," said William, and then he was turning Damien around, carefully, and beginning to soap him up, washing his chest and shoulders with efficiency, then going under Damien's arms. He didn't linger, as he washed Damien's genitals, then Damien's ass, scrubbing off the accumulated semen and slick. "You've gone through a lot already."

"I mean," said Damien, "I feel like you've been doing most of the heavy lifting." He wasn't arguing too hard, just taking it - what was he going to argue about, as he was lovingly washed and taken care of? He could probably muster up some kind of argument or complaint if he tried, but what would be the point? 

William was clearly getting something out of taking care of him, even if it was something that Damien didn't entirely understand. There were a lot of things that Damien didn't really understand about William, when it came down to it. He was glad that William was in his life as his friend, or as his... lover? Actually, what were they now, come to think of it?

"Are you my lover?" It popped out of Damien's mouth, before he had a chance to really think about it. 

"I don't know," said William. He had gone very still. "Do you want me to be?" 

"I like you being my friend," Damien said slowly. "It's... I like you being here. With me, in all the various... ways you can be with someone."

"Right," said William. "Perhaps we should talk about this during a less emotionally complicated time."

"That's downright profound," Damien said.

"No need to sound so surprised, old chum," William said. "I can contain multitudes, after all."

Damien snorted. He was coming to realize that William wasn't quite as mad as Damien had been led to believe. "Well," he said, "if I do end up thinking of you as my lover, I suppose that I'll have to get used to being deeper than I thought."

"You have no idea how deep I am," William said. "You haven't even put your pecker in me yet!"

Damien wasn't sure if that was funny or sexy - his dick gave a half hearted twitch, and he snickered in spite of himself. "I notice you said "yet" in that sentence," he said. "Should I start making plans?"

"I am never averse to plans," said William in a silky tone, and he cupped Damien's cheek, his thumb soft against Damien's cheekbone. "Although you still look asleep on your feet."

"I'm not quite asleep yet," said Damien. "Give it a few minutes."

William snorted. "I don't want to have to carry you," he told Damien. "I do believe I'd throw my back out."

"You're nowhere near old enough to start worrying about that," said Damien.

"You're never too young for your back to give out," said William, and he made a face. "Trust me. I know."

“What, do you have back pain secrets you haven’t shared with me?” Damien’s tone was light, teasing. 

“I’ve got a lot of secrets I haven’t shared with you,” William said, and his tone was suddenly deadly serious. “I don’t know if I ever can.”

“You’re allowed your secrets,” said Damien, which was true. God knew he had his own. 

“Right,” said William, and then he put on a bright smile. “We should get some food.”

“I don’t know if I’m hungry,” Damien said, which was true - he didn’t. He was mainly just tired.

“You can go to the kitchen and eat something simple,” said William, “and then you can have your sheets changed, and you can have a chance to sleep off some of the… everything.” 

“It’s been a tough few days,” said Damien.

William frowned. “Has it been a few days?” He rubbed his eyes, beginning wash his hair.

“... I have no idea,” said Damien. “Maybe?” Time seemed to be moving strangely, although some of that might have just been the craziness of all the fucking. Heat left him addled at the best of times, let alone in the midst of all of the emotional whatnot that was going on. 

“Let’s get some food,” William said, and he sounded assured. “We’ll both be better for it.” 

* * * 

William and Damien sat in Damien’s kitchen, and they ate sandwiches. William’s was some mess of who knew how many meats and three different sorts of pickle, while Damien had a peanut butter and banana one. He was on his third sandwich - he was much more ravenous than he realized. 

William was looking at him thoughtfully. “So what are the chances that all of our machinations… bore fruit.” He made a vague hand gesture, and Damien looked down at his plate. 

“I doubt they will,” said Damien. “I’m too old.”

“You’re not that old,” William countered. “And it _is_ a possibility.”

“Well,” said Damien. He hadn’t honestly thought about that - about having to worry about pregnancy, about all of the realities that pregnancy would deal with. 

“Well?” William took a bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully. He looked less intimidating in Damien’s kitchen, his mustache still damp from the shower, his hair in disarray, wearing one of Damien’s robes. 

“I don’t know what I would do,” Damien said honestly. “I suppose it depends on where you would like to go from there.”

“Right,” said William.

“We should cross that bridge when we reach it,” Damien said, with some finality.

“Oh, indeed,” said WIlliam. “Do you worry that we may be dragged in front of the police again?”

“Over the business with Markiplier?” Damien took a drink of water, and he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. “I don’t think so. We’ve both been here - it can be verified.” He was blushing now. “I… I know that my servants would have heard us. And they definitely saw us going out and about.”

“So once again we’re saved by our reproductive organs,” said Damien. “I must confess, I didn’t see that being a thing when I was younger.”

“Can we ever see ourselves reach the heights that we do, as adults?” William looked pensively into his sandwich, his expression thoughtful. 

“Another profound thought,” said Damien. “You’re on a roll.” 

“No,” said William, holding up his sandwich. “This was clearly a loaf.”

Damien rolled his eyes, but he was snickering in spite of himself. “That was below you,” he told William.

“Few things are below me,” William said cheerfully. “Once I accepted that everything I do is elevated by me doing it, it becomes level with me.”

Damien wasn’t sure how he felt about that, and he took another bite of his sandwich.

“I think that your heat is over,” said William. “You smell different.”

“Do I?” Damien resisted the urge to sniff himself - it was exceedingly difficult to judge his own scent by his own nose.

“You do,” said William. “Although, um, if you… if you don’t want me to stay over -”

“You’re welcome to stay,” said Damien, before William began to chase himself in circles. “You’re always welcome here. For as long as there’s a here.” He was probably going to regret that, in the near future, but he was still lost in the headiness of… what? Feelings? Grief?

“Thank you,” said William, and he looked touched. “What brought that on?”

“I guess I’m just realizing that things aren’t as… permanent as we thought they were,” said Damien, which was true. “I always thought that Markiplier would always be there, that all of us would always be here. But we’re not, are we?” 

“No,” said Damien, “we’re not.”

“Well,” said William, “I’ll do my best to be here, for as long as I can.”

Something in Damien’s belly clenched, and he looked down at his plate, aware that he was blushing. He wasn’t sure how he would feel about that later, but for now… well, for now, he could live with this.

He could very much live with this.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different?
> 
> Come talk to me on my twitter, TheseusInTheMaz (no "e" at the end).


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